Delusion
by Poppy03
Summary: A one part exploration of Syed's thoughts after that first time with Amira, before he's interrupted by a certain someone and sparks start flying...


_**Title:** Delusion _

_**Part:**1/1_

_**Pairing:** Christian & Syed_

_**Warning:** implied sex_

_**Disclaimer:** Neither of these characters are mine._

_This is something I posted on the Chryed LJ community: like I said there, it was more an exercise in starting to write again, than attempting a work of art. They were lovely and encouraging so I thought there's no harm bringing it over here - afterall, I want to get better at this, and I know it'll be come with practice and constructive criticism! It would be lovely to hear what you think, good or bad, I enjoyed getting writing again so I hope at least some of you enjoying reading!_

*

Syed was stirring the dhal aimlessly, grateful that he had moved onto a task that required very little of his elusive concentration. Oh, he could concentrate – but only on one thing, one person, one desperate sensation of fear, jealousy and desperation burning somewhere around his midriff. His mother was positively singing this morning: Amira's markedly lighter spirit yesterday evening wouldn't have spoken volumes to the casual observer, but Zainab was hardly one to hold back from reading between the lines. Often her probing habits landed miles from the truth, but now, there was only one truth she wanted to see. She'd seen it, she'd seized it, and she would now happily delude herself into believing it was over. That her son's confused, rebellion-hungry mind had finally stopped trying to make some ludicrous statement and had seen sense.

Because it had, hadn't it?

'_I didn't even think of you. I didn't need to.'_

Syed could hardly work out if he'd been lying when he said that. It was all a blur; at first he'd moved so fast, convincing himself that it was passion and not desperate haste that he'd lose the nerve that was making him so eager. He'd had to slow down to respect Amira's uncertainty, but of course, she too hardly dared let it stall in case he should suddenly be overcome by 'nerves'. No, he hadn't thought about Christian: he hadn't imagined gasping and writhing beneath the constraints of that crafted body, moaning against that sinful mouth and breathing in that deliciously masculine scent when he pressed himself against her. He refused to let that image enter his consciousness – but then, because of that, surely it did.. didn't it? _No_, he had been stronger, he had been consumed by the vision of curls and softness that he surrounded, and when he'd finally come it wasn't because his mind was firmly in _that_ flat, beneath _that_ body, or in the blind heights of an orgasm that only _his_ touch could incite.

Of course it wasn't.

Hearing the door open Syed suddenly shook himself back into reality, stirring a little bit more vigorously as if to convince some invisible observer that he really _was_ paying attention.

'Oh, Sy…'

Syed's body snapped around at that started voice, and was confronted with the very man himself.. every beautifully physical, real inch of him.

'I know, I know', Christian pre-empted at the thunderous look on Syed's face. 'I don't work here anymore. But Jane asked me to drop these off, she was tied up at the caff.' he explained, gesturing towards the crates in his arms full of the herbs and spices they'd been running low on.

'Thanks.. just, leave them on the side.' Syed said as neutrally as he could manage, before turning back apparently unaffected to his neglected creation. He listened intently for departing footsteps that never sounded; something was holding Christian back from leaving.

'Was there something else?' he asked, glancing back briefly to see Christian giving him one of _those_ looks… one full of love and deep sadness, that seemed to dislodge something in Syed's heart as they evoked the memory of his wedding day.

'I don't want us to be enemies, Sy.'

'Of course we aren't. Don't be ridiculous.'

'Am I? Yesterday, you could hardly contain your aggression – I mean it when I say I'm not pitying you, and I'm certainly not gloating. You know I wouldn't do that.'

'Sure. I know.'

'I'd believe you more if you weren't refusing to look at me, Syed.'

Hearing the gravity in his voice and the use of his full name, Syed stopped the vigorous chopping that he'd started for want of something more active to do when Christian arrived – feigning preoccupation was infinitely more convincing when you weren't just staring at a gently bubbling dish. He turned around, wiping his hands gently on his apron. Christian had the jeans on that Syed had always liked, which hinted at the long, toned legs he knew only too well were hidden, with a tight, dark grey jumper that articulated the sculpturing of his chest. The chest that felt like gloriously agile masculinity when you writhed against it, but was the softest pillow when you lay your head upon it. He was just dripping sexual charisma, with his hands casually in the pockets of his jacket.. but Syed hadn't noticed that. He didn't think things like that anymore.

Syed knew Christian was waiting for him to reciprocate his attempt at a peace offering, and awkwardly took off his hat and gloves, shuffling slightly and flicking his eyes up occasionally from the floor to the fridge, the crates... and when he dared, Christian.

'I know you aren't,' he reiterated unimaginatively, desperately avoiding thinking about how statuesquely his arms curved down to his skilful hands that rested near his thighs, how compelling his beautiful eyes were, how he wished his mouth was on those slightly parted, defiant lips..

'Is this how it's going to be, then?'

'What?' Syed asked, assuming confusion as badly as he had on his wedding day, when his mother had found him outside the café, and he had lied through his teeth about why Christian was upset.

'You avoid me. I run into you, try and make conversation, you get awkward and leave at the earliest opportunity?'

'Look, Christian.. I don't want this to be uncomfortable. But we've got our own lives now – what else is there to say?'

'Why does there have to be anything? Why can't we just be friends?'

Syed snorted, 'yeah. My mother will be thrilled to see that.'

'I don't _care_ what Zainab wants, Syed.' Christian exploded, exasperated. 'And I can't believe you always do too – are you going to keep doing whatever she wants from now on, just in case she gets angry, just in case you seem a little less than perfect?'

'It's _my life_, Christian,' Syed spat furiously.

'Is it? Or are you finally going to wake up and see that you're mindlessly following orders that are making you miserable?'

'What would you know about it? Maybe you weren't listening yesterday, but I told you, we did-'

'Oh, I was listening Sy, to _every single little word_ about how you're 'straight' now, or whatever.' Christian responded, scathingly. 'I'm not stupid, and neither are you – now you can finally be honest about it all, or you can keep pretending and in a few weeks make Amira miserable again-'

'_Don't even say her name.' _Syed growled, having crept forward subconsciously with every bitter retaliation so he was now dangerously close to that chiselled body, breathing heavily, looking furiously into those eyes. He had absolutely no right to decide whether or not his marriage was going to succeed, to try and make choices for him, or to bring that body anywhere near him if he was going to insist on looking like _that_…

Now they came unchecked, and Syed was helpless to resist them. Flashes of being possessed by him; having the effects of their actions imprinted upon their bodies, gasping until he exhausted his store of breath and writhing beneath the constraints of Christian's body so that every arch of his neck pressed him harder against Christian's kisses, faster against Christian's skin. Being reduced to a mess of moaning, desperate clawing and the most shameless pleas for that glorious pleasure as he was conscious only of Christian's hardened self moving inside him. Was he imagining it, or was Christian's breath sounding laboured and heavy? Had he come closer, or had Syed let his lust govern his feet so that he closed the distance himself? The air was saturated with their anticipation; Syed could almost smell the sexuality oozing from the godly form before him…

He had no idea who had moved first but it happened with such speed Syed found himself reacting out of instinct. He didn't know how they were now locked fiercely in such a crushing embrace, but then, he didn't care. Their mouths moulded together in a fierce duel of anger and passion; each of them could sense the others next movement by instinct and was one step ahead to make sure it only pressed them closer together, and each of them fighting for control. Fingers wove through hair, arms wrapped around torsos, hands roamed unashamedly up against skin and beneath buttons, breathing became secondary to touching and Syed was only conscious of the most erotic moans that emanated from their heated, desperately grinding bodies as buttons were undone and an apron thrown across the room..

_Oh, his mind had most certainly cleared. _


End file.
